


Disregarding the Opinions of Freud and a Certain Mrs Josephine Titmarsh

by GreyGardens



Series: Their Dark Desires [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Angry Sex, Angst and Porn, Arrogant Draco Malfoy, Banter, Choking, Cocky Draco Malfoy, Confident Hermione Granger, Control Issues, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, Doggy Style, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Draco Malfoy is a romantic at heart, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Has Issues, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Forced Orgasm, Freud would definitely have opinions, Gratuitous Smut, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Smut, Humor, Idiots in Love, Insults, Love/Hate, Moody Draco Malfoy, Multiple Orgasms, POV Draco Malfoy, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Coital Cuddling, Psychopaths In Love, Rough Sex, Sassy Draco Malfoy, Sassy Hermione Granger, Shameless Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but who cares what he thinks?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyGardens/pseuds/GreyGardens
Summary: A sequel to Their Dark Desires.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Their Dark Desires [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2182422
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Disregarding the Opinions of Freud and a Certain Mrs Josephine Titmarsh

"Granger." he smirked, arching his eyebrow wryly as he held the door open for her, welcoming her into the lavish manor house he had inherited from his family and leading her into the drawing room.  
  
"Malfoy." She greeted him in kind, allowing him to slide her cloak off, revealing her bare shoulders. For a moment he buried his nose in the glorious mane of curls she had controlled and tied back into a fussy french plait at the nape of her neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her shampoo, her perfume, _her;_ before untying the ribbon and shaking her curls loose over her delicate shoulders and kissing her neck hungrily.  
  
"Well, well, well, aren't _we_ keen?" She purred, rubbing her arse against his cock through his wool trousers, making it harden instantly. He ran his hands over her bare shoulders, sliding the spaghetti straps of her dress down as he did so, breathing heavily as he let his hands fall to her breasts, cupping them lovingly through the whisper thin rose pink silk chiffon fabric, delighted to discover that she wasn't wearing a bra. He began circling her nipples with his thumbs, rubbing against her eager arse as she backed it up against him. _  
__  
__"Tsk, tsk_ , Malfoy, didn't your mother teach you _any_ manners?" She teased as he backed her over into the plush leather couch, kicking off his shoes, loosening his tie and unbuckling his belt as he did so. "Aren't you even going to offer me a drink?" She asked, turning to bat her eyelashes and pout petulantly at him as he whipped his belt off and unzipped his trousers, stepping out of them and kicking them aside hurriedly.  
  
"No." He said bluntly, pushing her down onto her stomach on the couch and yanking the skirt of her dress up over her hips.  
  
"Aw, did somebody miss his _'filthy little mudblood?'"_ She mocked him, raising her beautiful arse unhelpfully off the couch as he struggled to remove her panties.  
  
"Like you wouldn't fucking _believe,_ Granger." He growled and then ripped her panties as he finally shoved them aside and sank deep inside her with a loud groan of satisfaction.  
  
Fuck, she still felt just as good as she had the first time he'd fucked her. He began stroking in and out of her in slow, deep, thrusts, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her bent across his expensive couch with her irresistibly sexy arse in the air and his hand on her back, holding her down as he pumped his hips into her.  
  
"Good." She panted as he pounded her relentlessly into the couch, losing himself completely in the perfection of her body and just how fucking _incredible_ it made him feel.   
  
"So, did _you_ miss _me?"_ He drawled teasingly, sure of her answer. He ran his hands up and down her body, rubbing her back gently before grabbing hold of the ridiculous ribbon on her dress and yanking it back just as he thrust into her, pushing himself in deeper and making her moan.  
  
"No." She answered cruelly once she recovered.  
  
"What did you say?" He asked, genuinely stunned. He stopped fucking her mid-thrust, still half buried in her.  
  
"I _said_ I didn't miss you." She said viciously, squeezing him until he felt like he would burst.  
  
 _"Fuck_ Granger," he hissed angrily, pulling out of her and then plunging back in roughly, filling her to the hilt, "must you always behave like such an insufferable _bitch?"_ _  
__  
_"You _love_ it." She teased as he forced her legs open wider and then grabbed hold of her hair, making her gasp. "Oh, you _know I_ do, Granger," he groaned, sinking back into her and holding himself there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her pulsing and clenching around him before sliding back out slowly, wanting her to feel every painful _millisecond_ of the loss of him inside her before he plunged himself back in again.   
  
"I wonder what Freud would have to say about your perverse need to fuck women who put you down and make you feel inferior to them?" She mused in a casual, almost bored tone as he thrust back into her.  
  
"I have no bloody idea who this judgmental _cunt_ Freud is," Draco growled, "but I'm sure he'd _also_ have an opinion on why a _good little girl_ like _you_ would want to be used and abused like a worthless whore by a man she gets off on mocking and insulting, don't you?" He hissed into her ear as he thrust into her so hard he almost knocked the wind out of her.  
  
"Oh, _that's_ finally shut you up, hasn't it?" He smirked, pushing her head down into the leather couch and pumping his hips into her roughly, picking up speed.  
  
"Fuck," he moaned as she squeezed him again, forcing him to slow down the punishing rhythm of his thrusts and take his time, sliding in and out of her as if he were in a dream, "so what if we have issues, anyway?" He asked, sinking back into her and then pulling out again before thrusting back in harder, almost causing her to slide off the couch with the force of his thrust.  
  
He grabbed hold of her before she could fall and held her in place by the ribbon of her dress, his unconsciously protective action surprising him. He tried to shake it off and get his head back in the game so he could give her the Draco Malfoy she clearly seemed to want. "So we're both fucked up, broken and damaged, who fucking cares?" He drawled with bored indifference, grabbing hold of her hips and sinking back into her roughly. " _Everyone_ is fucked up, Granger. The difference is we both _know_ we're fucked up. And each of us knows just how fucked up the _other_ is, so there are no nasty little surprises." He said, picking up speed and thrusting into her harder.  
  
 _"I_ know who _you_ are, and _you_ know who _I_ am." He grunted as he pounded into her to emphasize his words and she clawed the expensive leather. "No _mistakes,_ no _regrets,_ just _good, hard, filthy fucking."_ He said, grabbing hold of a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back as he hammered into her in short, quick thrusts and she moaned, panted and scratched helplessly at the couch; her orgasm building as he pounded into her, just the way he knew she wanted him to.  
  
"So," he said pointedly, sliding out of her again, "if you're sure that you aren't too worried that _Freud_ or...or I dunno...bloody _Josephine Titmarsh_ up the road in number eight will have an _opinion_ about what _filthy sexual deviants_ and _degenerates_ we are just for being bloody _human,_ I think we can work out an agreement, don't you?"  
  
"What _kind_ of agreement?" She spat with annoyance, waiting impatiently for him to fill her again, to make her cum.  
  
"To stop judging each other for what we want." He said, stroking himself as he prepared to either plunge back into her if she agreed to his proposal, or cum on her back and leave her empty, aching and unfulfilled if she turned it down like the stubborn bitch he knew she could be when she wanted to, whether it was in her best interest or not.  
  
 _Fuck,_ she was so bloody _infuriating._ He just wanted to fuck her into the couch until she came all over the expensive leather and absolutely _ruined_ it, but she always had to push his buttons and make him work so bloody _hard_ for what he wanted.  
  
"Fine, it's a deal," she finally agreed, "as long as you stop messing about and make me cum already, you selfish prat."  
  
"Fuck, Granger," he groaned, thrusting himself back into her much harder than he had intended to, "for a such compulsive goody-two shoes you truly are a stone cold _bitch._ I fucking _love_ it."  
  
"Oh yeah?" She purred. "Then _prove_ it, you puffed up, arrogant prick and fuck me so hard you make me scream your name." She dared him. "If you _can,_ that is."  
  
"Challenge accepted, you bossy little mudblood _bitch."_ He hissed, and then without warning he began fucking her into the couch, pounding into her so hard, fast and dirty that before he knew it she was moaning and writhing helplessly beneath him as he fucked her mercilessly. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh _DRACO!"_ She howled, cumming all over his hard cock, her thighs shaking while he continued to stroke into her, fucking her through her orgasm and picking up speed.  
  
 _Fuck,_ he could listen to her scream his name on an endless loop for the rest of his bloody _life_. The intense rush of power he got from it caused him to buck his hips into her harder and harder, rubbing her clit with his thumb and fucking her desperately.  
  
Fuck, she was so _gorgeous,_ so _sexy,_ he never wanted to shag anyone else but her for the rest of his life. But why, _why_ did she always have to insist on ruining it by challenging, mocking and insulting him? Why couldn't it always be like this, with her just taking his cock and screaming his name like a _good_ little bitch?   
  
Suddenly he let out a low growl of frustration, grabbed her by the back of her neck and held on tight, squeezing and releasing as he rocked his hips into her; fucking her harder and faster and deeper while he choked her and rubbed her clit until finally his orgasm peaked and he bucked his hips into her so hard that the couch slammed against the wall and he came inside her just as he let go of his grip on her throat. Fuck, he would never get over how bloody _good_ she felt. He pulled half way out of her only to thrust himself back in with a moan, taking her in short, quick thrusts, making sure to empty the last of his cum into her while he continued to rub her clit, increasing his speed on the sensitive nub until once again her thighs were shaking and she was writhing under his touch.  
  
Pinning his wanton woman in place so she couldn't squirm out of his way by accident, he slid his now limp cock out of her and replaced it easily with three of his fingers, pumping them into her roughly while rubbing, teasing and pinching her clit until she cried out, moaning desperately into the leather as he forced her to both cum _and_ scream his name for a second time that afternoon.   
  
_"Fuck,_ Granger," he panted as he removed his fingers from her, wiped them unceremoniously on the skirt of her dress, then sat down on the edge of the couch and reached for his cigarette case, "you sure do love screaming my name for someone who can't even admit to _missing_ me."  
  
Sitting next to him, acting completely unruffled by his comment, she pulled her spaghetti straps back up in a vain attempt to cover herself, took the silver case out of his hand, snapped it open and tapped out two cigarettes; putting one her mouth and lighting it, she took a long drag before placing it between his lips. He inhaled gratefully as she lit her own cigarette and then sank back into the soft leather couch, resting her head against the cushion as she enjoyed her post-sex smoke.  
  
"Sex is just _sex,_ Malfoy," she said as he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck comfortably and smoked his cigarette, rubbing her thigh with his thumb through the now wrinkled and damp chiffon of her skirt lazily, possessively, _"you_ of all people should know _that."_ _  
__  
_"I think Josephine Titmarsh would disagree with your assessment of the nature of our relationship," he smirked as his hand slid up the skirt of her dress and found her clit again. He began rubbing it in slow, teasing circles, nuzzling his head deeper into her neck and kissing her throat, feeling her pulse quickening under his lips as she arched her hips and he increased the speed and pressure of his fingers "I'm pretty sure she heard you screaming my name all the way from number eight." He teased as she squirmed under his hand, bucking her hips up against his palm.  
  
"Fuck Josephine Titmarsh!" Hermione cried as he thrust his fingers deep inside her, pumping them in and out of her as he continued to rub her with his thumb until she came shaking and sobbing in his arms for a third time.  
  
"Well," he drawled, stroking her curls lazily and taking another drag from his cigarette as she collapsed against him, limp as a rag doll, "if you want I could always invite her over, I'm sure that creepy old bat would be up for a cheeky threesome."  
  
 _"Eurgh!_ What?" She squealed with a giggle, slapping his chest. "She must be at _least_ ninety." She scoffed in disbelief. He caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips the way he knew she liked him to.  
  
"What?" He replied innocently, "I've seen the way she looks at me when I'm out jogging, that horny old bird can't get enough of me. And it's not like I can _control_ that," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, "sorry, your honor, I'm sexy, guilty as charged. Even old bats like Josephine Titmarsh want a piece of Draco Malfoy, the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor."   
  
"Ugh." Hermione rolled her eyes with mock disgust. Or perhaps it was real disgust, it was hard to tell.  
  
"Well," he continued, pointedly ignoring her display, "I can't say that I can _blame_ her, after all I _am_ the man who just made Hermione bloody Granger, brightest witch of our age and sexiest woman I've ever had the pleasure of bending over my couch; cum _three times_ and scream my name _twice_ in less than _ten_ minutes." He bragged.  
  
 _"Ha!"_ She scoffed, "And I suppose you think that makes you some kind of Casanova?"  
  
"Yes," he said bluntly, "I do.”  
  
"Your ego never ceases to amaze me, Malfoy." She said, stubbing her cigarette out in the crystal ashtray on the coffee table and resting her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He began stroking her curls again, letting himself relax with her in his arms. It was almost scary just how right it felt to be holding her like this, like they were a bloody _couple_ or something.  
  
The thought made his heart skip a beat. Maybe, if he played his cards right, they really _could_ be a couple, and then he could have her like this every day of his life. As soon the thought came into his head he realized that it was all he really wanted; to have her and to be hers, for them to belong to one another and be together like this forever. He couldn't imagine anything sweeter or more perfect than that.  
  
"What's wrong, Malfoy?" She teased, poking his stomach with her finger as she snuggled into him. "Cat got your tongue?"  
  
"What?" He asked, startled out of his blissful daydream. "Oh, no, I was just thinking about old Josephine Titmarsh," he lied, "I bet she'd _love_ a bit of minge. You really _should_ let me pop round with an invite, Granger."  
  
"Oh, shut up!" She laughed, smacking his chest playfully.  
  
"Make me." He growled.  
  
"Challenge accepted, Malfoy." She said softly, and then, pulling him down to her by his tie and cupping his face in her hands gently, she kissed him.  
  
Oh _Merlin,_ that was _it,_ he simply _had_ to find a way to win her over. He didn't care _what_ he had to do, she was going to be his even if it _killed_ him.  
  
"So," he drawled, once she had released him from the kiss and was resting her head against his chest again, "why don't you tell me all about this nasty little bloke Freud and what you think his opinion of me would be." He suggested coyly as he wound one of her curls around his finger, enjoying its softness, the feeling of her warm breath on his bare skin and her body up against his.  
  
"He'd probably say you were an out of control narcissistic bigot with an Oedipus complex, most likely because your parents were both narcissistic bigots; your mother was cold and withholding and didn't pay enough attention to you as a child and your father constantly made you feel totally inferior by giving you an unrealistically high and dangerously toxic standard to live up to." She rattled off like she'd just swallowed a muggle psychology textbook and was regurgitating all the hateful, damningly accurate knowledge back at him. She took a deep breath as if preparing to continue, obviously in her element and losing sight of the situation and his feelings completely, as she was known to do once she was on a roll.  
  
"Ooookaaaay," he said, putting a finger to her lips to silence her before she could barrel on full steam ahead, hurting his feelings and wrecking the rest of what had been a perfectly good day in the process, "enough about Freud, I say we go round to number eight and show Josephine Titmarsh a good time instead. What do you say, Granger old girl?"  
  
"Dream on, Malfoy." She scoffed.  
  
"Fine," he said, feigning his usual air of pompous indifference as her body melted back into his and he thought once again about how bloody _nice_ it would be if they could just stay like that forever, “I will."  
  
"Good," she said, "because dreams are all you'll ever have."  
  
"I wouldn't count on that, Granger..." he said, stroking her hair tenderly and thinking about what kind of engagement ring she might like; not gold or diamonds or anything gaudy or showy like that, Granger would probably prefer something simple, delicate and meaningful. He would have to think about it. It would be a challenge, just like her, but it would be worth it, just like she would be. A wide grin spread across his face, making him look like a little boy on Christmas morning, and he finished his sentence, glad that her head was buried in his chest and she couldn't see him looking so shamefully _happy_ at the thought of proposing to her, "I always manage to find a way to make _all_ my dreams come true."  
  
"I bet you do, Malfoy," she yawned, wrapping her arm around him sleepily and closing her eyes, "I bet you do…"  
  
"You're damned right I do, Granger," he whispered as she began snoring softly in his arms, "and I'll prove it to you by winning you over once and for all. No matter what I have to do, or how bloody long it takes, you _will_ be mine."  
  
But in the meantime, he wondered if perhaps a certain Mrs Josephine Titmarsh _would_ fancy a bit of a cheeky threesome?  
  
He smirked. It was always worth asking. 


End file.
